fun. To feel attractive again.
When he moved in, he seemed so different. I’d looked forward to there being someone with whom to share day to day life, especially with Jess about to go away. But it hadn’t taken long before I’d seen another side to him. The first time he lost his temper, I’d been taken aback by the force of it. Profuse apologies had followed. Warily, I’d listened, believing him when he told me what a strain he’d been under, prepared to forgive and forget almost anything. But from that point on, it seemed that more and more of what I did was wrong in his eyes, his outbursts perfectly timed so that Jess never got wind of them. There had been another scene – most likely the one Lara referred to, a week before he disappeared. Ratcheting things up to another level, he hit me.
The blow to my stomach had knocked the breath out of me, leaving me slumped on the floor, doubled up in pain as I waited for the next. I’d wanted to tell PC Page, back at the beginning. But fear prevented me. Fear of what Matt might do, if he came back and discovered I’d told them. My bruises were hidden. I was afraid of the police, too. What if they didn’t believe me? Or saw it as a motive, twisting the truth to use against me?
A month before he disappeared, there was another day that stands out for all the wrong reasons. The day everything moved to another level. Matt had come home from work, earlier than usual. After closing the front door, instead of coming to find me in the kitchen, he went straight upstairs. Almost immediately, I could hear drawers being opened and closed, the pad of his feet as he went through to the spare room; the sound of wardrobe doors being opened and closed. I remember my skin prickling with goosebumps. Then silence.
Tiptoeing to the bottom of the stairs, I’d called up. ‘Matt? Honey, are you OK?’ When he didn’t reply, a feeling came over me that I couldn’t describe. I tried again. ‘Matt. Are you there?’ The bottom two stairs creaked as I started to make my way up, then at the top, Matt appeared from one of the bedrooms.
‘Amy. I assumed you were in the workshop. I came home early. I wasn’t feeling well.’ His annoyance obvious, his eyes didn’t meet mine.
‘Are you OK? Can I get you anything?’ As I carried on up the stairs, he stepped forward.
‘I’m fine. I’m coming down in a minute.’ His voice sharp, his behaviour was strange, too, with no explanation as to why he was going through drawers and cupboards.
‘I just want to make sure you’re alright.’
As he spoke through gritted teeth, I shrank back. ‘Amy, get the fuck away from me. I want some quiet. Leave me, OK?’
Not wanting to upset him further, I did as he asked. But there was something about the expression on his face. As he headed back towards our bedroom, I hurried up the rest of the stairs, but before I could get there, he spun around and stood in the doorway, blocking it.
‘What’s going on?’ My heart was fluttering, my stomach twisting as I took in the look in his eyes. Then I glanced past him, at the piles of clothes on our bed, feeling the blood drain from my face. ‘What are you doing, Matt?’
For a moment, he didn’t speak. ‘I’m looking for something.’ His voice was icy. ‘A jumper. Now for Christ’s sake, leave me in peace.’
‘Which one? Maybe I can help.’ I was trying to sound calm when inside I was anything but, desperate to know what he was hiding from me.
This time he shouted. ‘You can help by leaving me to get on with this. Fucking hell, Amy. Just go downstairs.’
Numb, I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’ A frantic whisper, my plea for this to be anything other than what it looked like. ‘What were you doing in the spare room?’ Turning, I started to walk towards it, when I felt Matt painfully wrench my arm, pulling me away. But not before I’d seen an open suitcase piled with clothes.
*
By the time I’m next interviewed by the police, I’ve decided to tell them about that episode. As I’m escorted back to the interview room, I’ve rehearsed in my head what I want to say. When PC Page and DI Lacey come in, before either of them speaks, I take